Tea Leaves
by HalcyonRockstar
Summary: After a particularly embarrassing incident, it doesn't exactly surprise Ana when Captain America is a bit less friendly towards her than he is towards everyone else. As she tries to mend a fence that wasn't there to begin with, she discovers that her potential friendship with Captain America is much more complicated than it appears on the surface.
1. This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

Sometimes Ana felt extraordinarily lucky. She had a loving family that supported her, she had a stable job with co-workers that she counted as friends, and her apartment, though small, was in one of the better parts of the city. So yes, most days had Ana thanking whichever deities looked over her for her good fortune.

Today was not one of those days.

She had woken up late after her alarm failed to go off (damn power outage!), her umbrella broke in the cab which had just run through a giant puddle, thus dousing her with dirty rainwater, and Starbucks had been packed like a can of sardines. It was just as well, really, she didn't have time for breakfast right now, anyway. To make matters worse, the line for security was wrapped throughout the lobby like an ugly, inconvenient snake.

 _Still, it could be worse_ , she thought to herself when she finally got to the elevator in Stark Tower. _You know what Sarah would say, "first world problems."_ Her sister was the epitome of positive thinking, everything had a silver lining. It's one of the reasons Ana loved her so much, and why she looked up to her even though Sarah was five years younger. _I should call her tonight._

The elevator doors opened to her floor and she quickly hopped off, partly to pry herself away from the crowd as soon as possible and partly because she was _so,so late_. She ran down the empty hallway, thankful that Jane's office was on the quietest floor in the building.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!", she yelled as she burst through the doors, only to realize that she was speaking to an empty room.

"Jane? Darcy?" She questioned, searching for some human presence. _I'm on the right floor, right? Oh God, please tell me I'm on the right floor. I'm not getting on that hellscape of an elevator again_. But her worries were unfounded when Jane came through the door with a stack full of folders immediately after the thought.

"Good morning, Ana," she greeted sweetly.

"Jane, I'm so, so sorry I'm late. My alarm didn't go off, and then the douche in the cab ran me over so I didn't have time to-"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Jane said, holding up her hand to stop the flow of excuses running from Ana's mouth. "You were run over by a cab? Are you alright?" Ana looked at her in confusion for a moment before realizing what she had said.

"No, no, not run over by one. Sorry. I was splashed by one. Hence the drowned rat look," she panted as she swept her right hand in the air, gesturing towards her dripping clothes. "Anyway, I'm so sorry I'm late. If you wanna fire me, I totally understand," she conceded. She never wanted Jane to think that she didn't take this job as seriously as she did any other just because of their close friendship.

Jane pondered for a moment. "Yeah. You know what, this is unacceptable. You're fired."

Ana's heart stopped for a second, the color draining from her face.

"Oh my god, Ana, I'm joking. Honestly, what kind of a person do you think I am? Besides, Darcy hasn't been on time once since she's worked for me."

"Hey, I resent that!" Darcy said with her mouth full as she strolled in holding a coffee in one hand and bagel in the other.

"See," Jane said, raising her eyebrows at Ana as if to say _told ya_.

Ana chuckled, "Thanks, Jane. Sometimes I forget how great you are. My last boss would've murdered me. I'm still traumatized by her." She would never forget the wicked witch of the West Village, Miss Sinclair. After five months of her almost abusive treatment, Ana had said good-fuckin-bye to her. Life was too short and she swore she found a gray hair. No job was worth that.

"Don't worry about it. And get out of those clothes, you'll catch pneumonia. I think I have some in the closet for when I work here overnights. They're sweatpants and a t-shirt, if you don't mind that. It's just us on this floor anyway." Jane smiled reassuringly.

"Have I told you how much I love you?" Ana said in a chipmunk voice before making her way to the closet in the back of the office.

"You're welcome!"Jane yelled towards her.

The office was dark, lit by nothing other than the soft glow of computer screens and glittering constellations on the wall. Jane had told Tony about how difficult it was to read the constellations on the printout maps in passing one day, and having the hero complex he did, he immediately set up a sophisticated type of projection system so the entire side wall was a map of constellations. It looked so real that sometimes it felt like they were working in the night sky itself. Darcy told her she swore she saw Jane tear up a little when Tony presented it to her. Jane denied it, of course.

Ana quickly found the clothes in the supply closet, stashed on top of a stack of printing paper. The pants were soft on the inside like your typical sweatpants but had more of a yoga-style cut and look on the outside, which Ana was grateful for if not a bit confounded by. _What type of sorcery is this_? She greatly appreciated getting out of her wet clothes but didn't want to feel like too much of a slob at work.

At home was a different story.

Paired with the slate blue fabric was a white t-shirt. It was also super soft, and Ana wasn't surprised to find that both items were made by Stark Industries. She brought them to the bathroom with her, grateful for the spacious dressing area that was part of it. She had asked Jane one day why there was such an area in an office bathroom, but all she could tell her was that Pepper said something to Tony about not knowing the feminine struggles of women and _bim-bam-boom_ every office had a dressing room.

Peeling her wet clothes off of her still damp skin was simultaneously wonderful and repulsive. Taking them off was a relief, but the feeling of the wet cloth sliding against her skin made it crawl.

She dried herself off the best she could with one of the towels stacked on the vanity (thank you, Darcy, for your foresight) and almost moaned at the soft comfort of the sweatpants as she pulled them on. They were a perfect fit for her, which meant Jane must like her sweats one size too big. The shirt, on the other hand, was a tad snug. She had a larger bust than Jane as well as a longer torso. The resulting difference was about one inch of exposed skin between the bottom of the t-shirt and the top of the pants. _Eh, I'll take it_. At least it was dry and soft.

She tried to manage her hair the best she could, her pin straight mane that she had worked so hard to get that morning rebelling against the rain with her natural curly texture. Although her hair was so long now that it was more of a strong wave. _Ponytail it is_. She took one of her emergency elastics from her bag and tossed her hair into a thick ponytail. _At least I look less like Albert Einstein now_ , she thought. She had thought about dyeing it blonde once in high school but was quickly talked out of it when she read how you would never get your natural color back, especially if you were a brunette. Her sister, on the other hand, had dyed hers every color of the rainbow. As a result, Sarah's hair lightened a few shades whenever she went back to her natural color, taking the signature family deep chocolate strands down to a medium chestnut. She still looked beautiful, as always. Sarah was that type of person, she had even had a modeling agency chase her once. But Sarah wanted none of the attention, being content with the simple joys of her life instead.

Ana, on the other hand, was not as physically gifted. She was pretty, sure. Some may even say beautiful, if she went full glam with her makeup (which she rarely did, always opting for some light mascara and maybe a lip stain if she was feeling particularly playful). She had no ill will towards the mirror whenever she looked into it. But she was the shortest in her family at a height of 5' 5", which may not seem like such a big difference from her sister's 5' 7" stature, though Sarah held herself with such grace and charm that she moved like a gazelle, often making her seem taller than the measurement said she was. Ana had also never been recruited by _any_ modeling agency. Let alone the one that discovered Victoria's Secret Angels.

She was pulled out of her thoughts when Darcy called for her, asking if she could also grab a few file folders from the supply closet.

"Sure thing, Darce!" She yelled back, laying her wet clothes over the chair in front of the vanity, attempting to let them dry out as much as possible. She grabbed the file folders and made her way to the front of the office with Jane and Darcy.

It was finally time to get some work done.

A few hours later, Ana realized it was almost noon and she hadn't had her morning tea yet. She wasn't much of a coffee drinker, the beverage being too bitter for her liking, no matter how much sugar she put in it. Tea was sweet and soothing, and provided enough of a caffeine boost that it energized her for the day.

"Hey Jane, mind if I go grab some tea in the break room?" She looked up over her computer monitor, seeing the brown eyed beauty diligently working on her current calculations for some project she was working on for Tony. As an astronomy minor, Ana could comprehend the space aspects of Jane's work and actually found it to be quite enjoyable. When it came to physics, however, she was a lost cause.

"Jane? Jaaaaaaneee?," Ana sing-songed, trying to get Jane's attention.

"It's a lost cause, Anastasia," Darcy informed from her desk. "You know how she gets when she's down the rabbit hole. Watch." Darcy spun around in her desk chair, stopping when she was facing Jane. "Hey Jane, I had a sex dream about Thor last night. He went down on me and everything. Except, fun twist, instead of a dick he had a teeny tiny hammer. And let me tell you, he took me to poun-"

"Darcy!" Jane yelled in disgrace, throwing her hands over her ears. "My god! I'm not deaf, you know. I was just concentrating. But thank you for that mental image." She looked to Ana, who was trying her damndest not to laugh and failing miserably.

"Sorry, Ana. Of course you can go take a break. Take as much time as you want. And if you didn't come back, I wouldn't blame you." She playfully glared at Darcy, who shrugged her shoulders and smirked as she went back to work on her computer.

"Thanks Jane. You guys want anything?" she asked as she stood from her chair, placing her hands on the back of it.

"Some nice dick would be nice," Darcy muttered under her breath, but her two colleagues heard her, as evidenced by the scandalized scream of her name. She tossed her hands up in the air, shouting, "What?! It would be!" before placing them back on her desk in a huff.

Ana traipsed out of the office, a smile on her face. Her day had started out terribly, but she could always count on her friends to turn it around.

Strolling down the hall, she took notice that it was exceptionally quiet on their floor today. Granted, it usually was, but there was a meeting room down the other end of the hall that was often in use. Today it appeared to be a ghost town, her footsteps and the pounding of rain on the windows the only sounds keeping her company.

She reached the break room, pressing her hand to the scanner to allow herself access. Sometimes the technology of this place still amazed her, even something as seemingly simple as a hand scanner.

Walking through the door, she recalled how mesmerized she was by this space on her first day. Calling it a "break room" really did not do it justice. It resembled more of a lounge with its full kitchen (including a gorgeous marble island), dining space and cozy, plush chairs forming a half circle in front of the large expanse of windows overlooking the city. It was a good thing she had gotten over her fear of heights when she was a teenager. Otherwise, she would have never been able to take a job where most rooms had entire walls of glass, reminding her of just how high up she was.

She made her way towards the cabinet where she knew her tea bags resided. She groaned as she opened it to reveal they were on the very top shelf.

Thor must have made it for Jane yesterday.

 _Curses on you, God of Thunder_.

Ana had met Thor a few months into her new job. She was intimidated at first, as it wasn't every day that you met a _Norse God_ , but she instantly warmed up to him when he greeted her with an enthusiastic smile and boisterous "Lady Ana!" Apparently Jane had spoken about her new assistant frequently and with warm regard.

Thor and Tony were her only acquaintances within the Avengers team, as they were the only ones with reason to visit Jane. She had seen the Black Widow at the elevator bank once but immediately averted her eyes after muttering a quick "good morning", finding the Widow's attention too much to bear. Ana admired the hell out of her, but she was much too intimidated by the redhead to look her in the eye for more than a second, let alone build a friendship with her.

Hell, when she first started, she was intimidated by _everyone_ in this building.

Ana started the kettle before making her way over to grab a chair from the casual dining table, hauling it back towards the cabinet to use as a step stool. Placing it underneath the cabinet, she climbed up, finally able to reach her tea bags. Climbing back down with her prize, she took a mug from one of the hooks underneath the cabinet and made her way to the kettle, waiting patiently for the telltale whistle to start blowing.

About ten minutes later she was done preparing her morning beverage, although a glance at her watch told her it was now her afternoon beverage. Taking a sip of the hot liquid, she immediately recoiled from the scalding temperature. She placed her tea bags back in the cabinet, making sure to put them on the bottom shelf (not that she could reach farther than that, even if she stood on her tiptoes). Who made these things so damn high anyway? Not everyone that works here is a Sequoia.

Ana took her mug and made her way to the door. Looking down into the mug, she carefully blew on it as she walked…

And crashed into a wall.

Ana yelped as hot tea spilled everywhere, its number one target being herself. The other casualties appeared to be the floor and the wall.

The wall that breathed. And was firmly sculpted underneath a soaking wet t-shirt. And was grasping her upper arms, saving her from joining the tea on the floor.

She looked up into bright blue eyes, eyes that were widened and looking like they had seen a ghost.

Speaking of Sequoias…

 _Holy fucking hell. I just spilled tea on Captain America._


	2. Daydreamin'

Steve Rogers was a beautiful man, there was no argument there. He had the sculpted jaw any A-List actor would kill for, the body of a gladiator, gorgeous golden skin, and the most astonishing pair of blue eyes that Ana had ever seen. However, all she could focus on at the moment was a combination of the searing pain from having hot tea all over herself and concern over the way the Captain was looking at her.

He seemed spooked, eyes wide and brow furrowed. It took a full forty-two seconds for him to release his grasp of her upper arms. The forty-third second seemed to reset the situation, as he straightened her up and smoothed out his facial features, presenting the default Captain America visage.

"Oh my God, I'm _so_ sorry," Ana felt like she was a broken record, saying the phrase for what had to be the twenty-seventh time today. She knew she apologized too much, always had ever since she was a child. In this instance, though, she felt it was one of the necessary times to do so.

"Don't worry about it, ma'am. Are you alright?" He seemed more confused than offended or angered, much to Ana's relief. That last thing she needed to do was piss off any of the Avengers, let alone their leader.

"I'm fine, thank you," _just some minor third degree burns_ , "I really am so sorry, I need to start watching where I'm going," she finished with a small nervous laugh, looking down at herself.

An awkward silence filled the next few moments. The Captain was significantly more quiet and intense than she had imagined he would be. Then again, maybe he was also focused on the scalding hot beverage that now coated him, too. _God, I'm a moron_.

"Are _you_ okay? Looks like some of my tea jumped ship onto you, too." She gestured towards his damp shirt, trying not to ogle the muscular form it clung to.

"I'm quite alright, ma'am." He looked at her intently, and the air in the room became thick with an energy she couldn't identify. He seemed as though he was trying desperately to say something with his eyes, something he didn't want to express verbally. They almost looked...pleading, in a way.

 _Poor guy probably just wants me to leave him the hell alone. Stop looking at him, you're clearly making him uncomfortable. Find something else to do! This is the most awkward moment that has happened to anyone ever in the history of time. Say. Something_.

"Well, I should probably get this cleaned up. Again, I'm quite sorry, Mr. Rogers- Doctor Rogers -Captain Rogers." Ana shook her head with each mistaken name she uttered, wishing a portal would open up in the floor that she could jump into. _You. Are. An. Idiot_. "I'm gonna go grab a...ummm...mop, or something." She waved her hand behind her, indicating some vague form of cleaning supplies.

"I already alerted the custodial staff to the spill, Miss Larsson." Ana jumped at the A.I. voice, still unused to the omniscient presence.

"Oh, right. Thank you, JARVIS." She turned to glance at Steve who still looked at her intensely, although now his features were tinged with a whisper of amusement.

"The wonders of Stark Tower, huh?" She tilted on her heels and gently swung her hands into each other, biting the inside of her cheek awkwardly as she did so.

"Yeah, it's unbelievable sometimes," Steve said, a slight tone of wonder in his voice. Hearing it, Ana realized that if she, a child of the nineties, was amazed by the technology of Stark Tower then Steve must be utterly awestruck by it.

And yet the tone in his voice and the look in his eye made her think he was talking about something else completely.

Still offput by his intensity, Ana scrambled to gather her wits.

"So, umm...I guess I have to go back to my work...people...stuff," Ana fidgeted with the ring on her right hand, nodding her head as if reassuring herself that that was, in fact, what she had to do. "It was nice meeting you, Captain Rogers," she smiled at him, an ironic one that hopefully would convey the playful intention of her next sentence. "I hope to bump into you again, sometime," she said as she headed towards the door. _Atta girl, end strong with a pun!_ She internally rolled her eyes and face palmed herself.

It wasn't until she glanced at her reflection in the glass of the windows lining her walk back to the office that she remembered she had been wearing a white shirt. A white shirt that had not survived the dreaded tea experience, apparent from the way it now clung to her body in an officially inappropriate manner for the workplace.

 _Maybe that's why he was so weird..._

Many questions arose when she greeted Jane and Darcy for the second time that day. Ana described the incident in full detail, ending with "It was the second most disastrous thing involving tea to happen in this country." She didn't feel that was being over dramatic in the slightest.

While Darcy was busy laughing and dubbing it "the modern day Boston Tea Party"-making Ana regret her city of birth for the first time in her life- Jane seemed a bit more contemplative.

"That's strange. I've met Steve. Many times, actually. He's usually a lot friendlier than that," Jane related.

"Yeah. I gotta say, I've only met him once, but he was downright charming. And gorgeous. My God, those muscles in a soaking wet t-shirt that's already too tight…" Darcy drifted off, Ana and Jane exchanging a look to see if they were equally uncomfortable with Darcy's tone.

They were.

"I mean I did spill a hot beverage on him, I'd also be none too pleased if I was covered in a scalding hot liquid. Actually, I was covered in a scalding hot liquid. And it hurt. A lot." Ana cringed as she relived the moment.

"Please, he's a super soldier and an Avenger. He probably didn't even feel it," Jane offered.

"Even so, at the very least I ruined one of his shirts. And probably his day. I wouldn't be friendly to me either," Ana contemplated.

The rest of the work day passed by quickly, and Ana made it back to her apartment without further complication. Her nightly routine went uninterrupted, and after a call with her baby sister she felt eons better. Sarah always had a way of lightening any embarrassing or tense situation, and Ana was incredibly grateful for that gift when she relayed what she would from now on refer to as "the incident."

After triple checking her alarm, she drifted off to sleep with one final thought.

 _Maybe I should switch to juice from now on…_

The next few days went along quickly, Ana trying her best to get over "the incident." She had a tendency to dwell on embarrassing situations, a fault that, while it had significantly improved over the years, had yet to be shed completely. She wouldn't describe herself as insecure, but her quiet confidence seemed to be a drastic contrast to the almost smug superiority that rolled off of every other Stark Tower employee.

Although the frequent moments of recollecting "the incident" didn't surprise Ana, the specific detail on which she was focused did. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop thinking about that pair of baby blue eyes and the way they had looked at her. The emotion swirling within their intense depths was something Ana still could not put her finger on, and that bothered her more than anything else.

The end of the next work week found Ana sitting in one of the large plush lounge chairs that lined the expanse of windows in the break room. Jane had asked her to stay late, if she didn't mind, because there had been some unusual readings that week but nothing solid enough to deter Jane from spending the rest of the night with Thor, who was returning to Asgard in the morning. Ana happily accepted, promising to text Jane if there was anything urgent. Jane thanked her, implying in not-so-subtle terms that Ana would have a raise within the next week.

As she looked out among the glittering lights of the otherwise dark city, she realized that she would do this job for free. The learning experience itself was priceless, not to mention the fact that it felt less like work and more like hanging out with her two best girlfriends. And the feeling of making a difference, no matter how small that difference was, fulfilled her in a way that none of her other jobs had.

After the past few hours of going over readings, she had decided to take a break, as she was starting to get dizzy from all the concentrated staring. Jane had told her that if nothing unusual happened by nine o'clock to just have JARVIS monitor the activity once every hour. He would alert Ana to such an event, who in turn would alert Jane, since she would know better than JARVIS if it was worth interrupting Jane's assumed romantic night. Ana curiously asked why JARVIS couldn't be on stargazer duty the whole time, and Jane informed her that Tony required his full attention until nine that night. If anything, that response raised more questions than it answered, but Ana just shrugged and accepted it anyway.

She began dozing off, the once individual lights of the city slowly becoming one blurry golden blob until she succumbed to the exhaustion of an extensively busy work week.

Waking up came in stages, as it usually did for Ana.

She was still floating in that lovely ocean of half wakefulness as voices crept into her awareness.

"I'm going to find the person responsible for scheduling that meeting. And then I am going to kill them," a female voice threatened.

Her male companion chuckled before insisting "It's not that bad, Nat."

"Not that bad? I'll have you know, Rogers, that unlike you, some people actually have social interactions on weekends. Especially Friday nights. And those nights usually lead into the morning…" the female insinuated.

"Hey, maybe I had plans last night too," the man protested weakly. "What? It could happen."

"Yeah, it could if you ever actually socialized. What happened to that girl you were talking about? The one that looked like-"

"Not this again," the male voice cut her off, exasperated. "I told you, I'm not going near her. She didn't just look like her Nat, she even sounded like her. She had her voice. How does that happen?"

"Maybe it was her. Weirder things have happened."

"I thought so, too, when I first saw her. But by the way she acted..." The man sounded sad now. "I'm just going to leave it alone."

"If that's what you want to do, then fine. But if I had the chance to be with someone I loved a long time ago, even just as a friend, I'd take it in a heartbeat. Don't let your fear take away your potential for happiness," the woman advised. A door was pulled open before closing with a thud. A heavy sigh filled the air and soon after the smell of coffee did the same.

But Ana was much too comfortable in her curled up position, and much too tired to fight the tempting pull of sleep again.

Ana woke with an unusually energetic start. She couldn't remember the last time she had slept so well, or for so long. The bright morning light saturated the room as Ana stretched like a cat in the sun, a piece of fabric falling off of her and onto the floor. She picked it up and realized it was a brown leather jacket. Judging by the size and shape, she came to the conclusion that it belonged to a man. A very good smelling man, she noted as she breathed in the scent. Someone must have placed it over her while she slept.

That's when she remembered her apartment was never this bright, no matter how sunny it was outside. And her bed was not nearly this plush. It also wasn't made out of leather.

She had fallen asleep in the break room.

 _Shit, the readings!_

"JARVIS, were there any unusual readings last night?" She asked somewhat anxiously.

"No, Miss Larson. I can report that there was no unusual activity."

"Thank you," Ana breathed a sigh of relief.

She retrieved her phone from the table next to her, reading the time as 8:27 AM. _Jesus, how long was I out for?_

Looking at a missed call from her sister and several texts from Jane, she gathered herself and decided it was time to face the day. She took hold of the leather jacket, wondering what she should do with it. Knowing that hardly anyone came in here, she felt it was safe enough to leave in the chair she had been sleeping in. She wished she could thank whoever was responsible for keeping her warm. _Actually, maybe I can…_

She found a piece of paper and a pen, which was a miracle in and of itself considering how the Tower was almost exclusively digital. Writing _Thank you, stranger :_ ) , she folded it once and arranged it so that it stuck out of the left front pocket of the jacket. Feeling satisfied with the note's placement, she folded the jacket so it laid neatly in the center of the chair cushion. But not before once more breathing in the mouthwatering scent that lingered on the brown leather.

If she was smiling on her way out the door, well, that was completely irrelevant.

"


	3. Call It What You Want

Much to Ana's relief, Jane was pretty understanding when it came to the whole falling-asleep-on-the-job thing. Sure, maybe it was partly because Ana texted her while Jane was still blissed out from her sensual night with Thor (it's difficult to be mad at someone when your brain is still melted, as Jane had let her know). But if Ana's timing was accused of being planned, she would plead her innocence.

After texting Jane, Ana spent the next couple of hours organizing the office. She was here anyway and had no plans (surprise, surprise). She hoped it would make up for her snooze the night before, and maybe it would mollify Jane in the event she decided she actually was perturbed by Ana's lack of vigilance.

Stacking the last of the papers on her desk (she swore this office was the only one with actual, physical paper in it) and taking one last look around, Ana decided her task was complete. Checking her phone, she noted the time as 12:17 PM. Her stomach grumbled then, protesting the length of time she had gone without feeding it.

Ana pulled her shoes back on (walking around in heels just to clean was not going to happen, no matter how cute they were), making a mental note to start keeping a pair of sneakers in the office for future occasions before popping into the bathroom to make sure her appearance was still up to par. Although it was Saturday and most employees adhered to normal 9 to 5 hours, there were still a few departments that were running 24/7. On the off chance that she saw anyone, she wanted to look acceptable. She normally wasn't like this. Perhaps it was vain of her, perhaps she shouldn't put so much stock into what her fellow Stark employees thought of her, but she reasoned that if it gave her confidence a boost, then it wasn't hurting anyone.

She arranged her hair so it was once again neatly tucked into its low side braid, and ran her hands over her clothes to smooth out any imperfections. Her grey sweater was fine, it's ribbed texture making it impervious to wrinkles. Her skirt was a tad disturbed, but after smoothing her hands over it a few times, the wrinkles disappeared, realigning the few broad lines of magenta that interrupted the navy and restoring the vaguely plaid pattern.

She didn't look half bad, considering she had slept in a chair the night before. Granted, it was a very comfortable chair, but still a chair nonetheless. Her light makeup had survived the night, just some mascara and lip gloss since her practically poreless and evenly toned skin never needed foundation. It was the one thing her sister envied her for.

Grabbing her bag and phone, she left the office in a particularly good mood. Productivity so early in the day was always bound to put a pep in her step, and the few extra hours of sleep didn't hurt, either.

She only had to wait a few moments for the elevator to arrive, and she pressed the button for the ground floor as she began to ponder what to have for lunch. Thirty seconds and 7 floors later, the elevator came to a stop. Ana checked to make sure she had pressed the correct button, as this wasn't even close to the ground floor yet, but the doors opened to reveal the reason for the pause.

The Black Widow walked in, wearing her typical leather jacket and dark jeans, and giving Ana her signature smirk as a greeting before making her way to the opposite corner of the elevator. If she didn't make Ana nervous already, Steve Rogers walked in right behind her, and Ana thought she saw a slightly surprised look cross his face before he offered a small, not-quite smile and nod in her direction, standing between the two women.

Well, her good mood felt nice while it lasted.

Neither of her new elevator companions moved to press their floor number, so Ana assumed they would be accompanying her for the entire ride to the ground floor.

 _Well, that's one way to make the passing of time slow down._

The silence made her uncomfortable, so she fiddled with the diamond solitaire around her neck, as she often did when she was nervous. It was a staple in her wardrobe, as much for its sentimental value as it's classic beauty. Her parents had given it to her when she graduated high school, and she had yet to take it off.

She noticed Steve and Natasha sharing a glance with each other out of her peripherals, and she imagined a sharp shake of the Captain's head before they both turned to face the front of the elevator again. The Captain seemed tense, his arms crossed against his chest, causing his tight blue shirt to strain against his muscular physique.

Not that Ana was paying attention to that, of course.

She tried to distract herself by counting the seconds, watching the floor numbers rush by, but The Black Widow startled her out of her trance.

"You're Ana right? You work with Dr. Foster?" The redhead asked, leaning over a bit so she could see Ana across Steve. She asked it in a way that told Ana she already was aware of exactly who she was, and was offering the question as more of an ice breaker than anything else.

Ana was honestly kind of touched at the effort, and tried to stumble out a decent response.

"Um, yes, I am. And I do," she mentally kicked herself as she let out a small nervous laugh. _What is it with these people? You were fine with Thor! They're just people, you dope. Just talk to them like they're your friends._

"I'd ask you for your name, but I think we both know I know it already," Ana offered with a small smirk of her own, hoping she could relay how much it meant to her that Natasha was even giving her the time of day.

Natasha laughed, and Ana was unsurprised to hear what a perfect sound it was.

"Yes, well, when you've done the things I have, introductions are hardly necessary." Natasha raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow, giving a slight shrug as if to show her resignation to the fact she had just stated.

The next bout of silence had become less nerve wracking, and the elevator dinged to announce their arrival at their destination.

Before the doors opened, though, Natasha asked Ana one more question.

"Say, Ana, we've been working all morning and are completely famished. We were about to make our way to this little café uptown. It's usually pretty quiet, kind of a hidden gem type place. Would you like to join us?" Natasha seemed completely genuine, and the offer froze Ana on the spot.

Was she seriously being asked to have lunch with the two most intimidating Avengers (actually, scratch that, people) she had ever met? This could go very, _very_ poorly. Ana did not do well around intimidation.

Sensing Ana's hesitance, Natasha inisisted even more, "Please? I love this guy," she pointed to Steve, "but I really need some fellow estrogen." Natasha finished her plea with a smile, and Ana could tell she had never been rejected when using it before.

Thinking it over for a few seconds, Ana decided it was worth the potential humiliation. She had no plans today (or any day, really, since Darcy had signed up for several dating apps and was constantly occupied with single men lately). She had also promised herself that she would start doing more spontaneous things. Okay, yeah, this would be fine. She made up her mind.

"You know what? I'd love to. If you're sure I'm not imposing," Ana said, first looking Natasha before glancing at Steve. She had almost forgotten he was there, as he hadn't said a peep through the entire conversation. He seemed to be quietly seething, and she had a feeling he did not want her company.

"No imposition at all. It will be nice to have another girl to talk to for once, right Steve?," Natasha winked at her, and Ana felt simultaneously like a long lost friend and a bug caught in a spider's web.

Ana looked to Steve as he bore his eyes into Natasha's and said "Right." in a way that made Ana feel like it was not right at all.

Nevertheless, Natasha led them all to her car outside, and Ana had never seen a person embodied in a car before. It was sleek and sexy, just like the owner, and Ana was sure it would operate just as efficiently.

Ana climbed into the back seat, figuring since Steve was taller, he would need more space. Natasha looked somewhat displeased, probably hoping to make Steve stew in his tension in the backseat, like a kid put in time-out.

The ride to the café wasn't as long as Ana expected, but a car was definitely needed for the journey. It was mostly silent, with Natasha making small talk here and there.

When they were seated in the café, Ana became intensely aware of this situation's oddness, making her unusually nervous. Both of her lunch partners were looking at her from the opposite side of the booth. Staring, honestly. Natasha had a glint of curiosity in her eye, and Steve was...well, Steve was trying not to throw a temper tantrum, she was pretty sure.

Ana looked around, taking stock of the small establishment. It was cozy and quiet, with an Italian theme. Their menu seemed to be a blend of casual fair (paninis, soups, what have you) and more decadent options (she would be lying if she said she wasn't eyeing that chocolate cake in the display). The decor was minimal but beautiful, and if someone told her she was in Venice, she would completely believe them.

During her observation, no one had said anything for about five minutes, so she made an attempt to get the ball rolling.

"This place is lovely, how did you find it?" She looked to Natasha for an answer. She had a feeling most of the conversation would be between the two of them, anyway.

"Bruce suggested it once, he likes to come here for the quiet," Natasha smiled fondly. If Ana didn't know any better, she'd say someone had a fondness for a certain doctor with anger management issues. "So, Ana, where are you from?"

Slightly taken aback by the question, she answered, "Oh, I'm from a city just outside of Boston. Scituate? Yeah, I get that look a lot," she said as she saw the name was ringing no bells with Natasha.

"What's it like there?" Natasha continued.

"It's beautiful, actually. It's on the coast, so the ocean is constantly in your view. It's like the perfect combination between city and country. It's your typical charming New England town, I guess." Ana realized she truly missed her hometown. She loved the hustle and bustle of the city, but sometimes she longed for the quaint simplicity of home.

"It sounds lovely." Natasha sounded like she genuinely thought so.

"It is," Ana agreed with a fond smile.

A moment later the waiter came over, an Italian man in his mid-forties, Ana would guess. She was never good with ages. He took their order (a chicken panini for herself, two ham and cheese paninis for Steve, and a turkey and avocado panini for Natasha) after catching up with Steve and Natasha for a few minutes. Apparently they were regulars.

"Anyway, back to you, Ana. What's your family like?"

"Umm, they're great. Mom and dad, little sister. Although I feel like she's older, sometimes."

Natasha nodded thoughtfully. "And what was your childhood like?"

"Pretty normal, I guess…" Ana was starting to get a little uncomfortable with Natasha's undivided attention placed upon her.

"Mmhmm, mhmm." Natasha hummed in agreement. "And how were you in school? Good grades, bad grades?"

"Mostly good. Straight A student, except for physics. I hate physics. I will always hate physics." Natasha chuckled briefly in what Ana assumed was agreement with her feelings on the subject.

"College?"

"UMass."

"Major?"

"Art." She noticed Steve perked up a bit when she said this.

"Any minors?"

"Astronomy."

"When did you move to New York?"

"About three years ago."

"And when was your last relationship?"

The quickfire questions were making Ana flustered, and she briefly wondered if there was an ulterior motive to this outing.

"Okay, look, I gotta ask. Am I under investigation for something? Because my palms are starting to sweat." That was not an exaggeration, and although it was said with a tone of jest, there was an underlying nervousness in her voice that clued them in to the genuine side of her question.

She noticed Steve was glaring at Natasha, who, to her credit, did appear a bit sheepish. Well, as sheepish as Natasha Romanoff could look. "Nat, stop it. You don't need to interrogate her."

Natasha looked at Ana with some regret. "I'm sorry, I get carried away sometimes. I don't meet a lot of...civilians." Ana immediately felt bad for questioning Natasha's motives. The woman was just being kind. Ana felt sorry for her, in all honesty. It must be difficult to have your whole life consumed by a job where you constantly had to be on guard. "How about we start over?" The redhead offered.

Ana smiled, small but sincere. "Sure. Although, I gotta tell you. I'm starting to feel like I'm on a first date." She laughed the ridiculousness of the idea off and Natasha chuckled. For a moment, she thought she saw Steve turn a slight shade of red. She told herself it was probably the lighting.

Their paninis arrived and Ana realized how utterly famished she was. Maybe it was her hunger, but something told her that the taste of the panini would be just as amazing on a full stomach. Through bites of food, she and Natasha conversed about their jobs. Mostly Ana's work, since Natasha's job was classified 98 percent of the time. Although, she was able to offer some answers to Ana's inquiries.

"Don't you ever get sick of working with all men all the time? No offense, Steve," Ana tacked on at the end of her question. He had been quiet throughout the entirety of their conversation, only offering a polite smile or nod of the head where it was warranted.

"None taken," his deep baritone assured. Ana had forgotten what he sounded like, and she noted that if a voice could be described as handsome, his certainly was.

Ana's attention returned to Natasha when she spoke. "It would definitely be nice to have some ladies around, but when you're out on the field it doesn't matter who your teammates are. All that matters is that they have your back and you have theirs." She looked pensive for a moment, lost in a far off thought, before adding, "besides, Tony is enough of a diva for all of us," with a smirk.

"That he is," Ana agreed with a laugh. She knew him pretty well, as he always made appearances at Jane's office-slash-planetarium. He annoyed Jane to no end, and Darcy was practically him in female form, minus the brilliant mind part. Not that she wasn't smart. No, Darcy was much brighter than people gave her credit for, and her sarcastic wit proved that every day. But as much as everyone hated to admit it, no one's brain could compare to Tony's.

There was a lull in conversation, and Ana felt bad about not making more of an effort to include Steve in the conversation. Captain America was so outgoing, but maybe Steve Rogers was a just a shy guy from Brooklyn. Ana began to feel ashamed for not thinking of that sooner, and decided to try to right her wrongs.

"So, Steve," she began. She could tell he was startled by his name coming from her, but he became attentive nonetheless. "How are you liking the new millennium so far?" She ended with a soft smile, hoping he could read her sincerity.

"Oh, well…" he paused for a moment, and whether it was due to the unexpected question or his contemplation of its answer, Ana didn't know. "It's mighty different, I can tell you that. With our job, though, I don't have much time to think about it." Or adjust to it, either, Ana thought. She had never put much thought into his situation, and felt betrayed by her uncharacteristic selfishness. Her parents had raised her better than that. She prided herself on her empathy and compassion, traits being genetic on her mother's side of the family. Her grandmother would be disappointed to know that Ana had not given more than a passing thought to this man's predicament, let alone reach out to help him. _No, all you've done is ogle him and judge him. He probably just wanted to have a nice lunch with his friend in peace. You're an ass._

"Well, if you ever have a spare minute and a question, you know where to find me," she insisted with a friendly smile.

Steve's face softened a bit before throwing out, "As long as you're not making tea that day." He raised his eyebrows and she could have sworn she saw the beginning of a smirk play on his mouth.

Ana groaned and clamped her eyes shut, reliving her most embarrassing moment in recent memory. "I'll have you know, I've switched to exclusively cold beverages, thank you very much," she huffed out through a laugh. Steve looked amused, nodding his head in acknowledgement of her declaration.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Natasha looked awfully pleased with herself.

Having finished their meals, the unlikely group made their way to leave the tiny café. Offering to pay the bill, Ana was quickly shut down by Natasha. She wanted to be polite, but she also wanted to live to see tomorrow, so she conceded her defeat. She noticed Steve give her a look as if to say _you can't win with her_ , and felt a sort of relief knowing that Natasha could strongarm even a superhero into doing what she wanted. Her admiration for the Widow grew even more at the realization.

Natasha offered to drive Ana back to her apartment before dropping Steve off at his, and Ana gladly accepted. After a brief debate, Ana took the backseat again, making the point that Steve would just have to get into the front at her apartment anyway. Steve reluctantly agreed, but Ana had a feeling it was more because he didn't want to offend her than anything else.

Thanking the pair for the unexpected lunch excursion, Ana hopped out of the car and made her way into the apartment building that stood proudly before her. It was one of the rare buildings still standing after the Chitauri attack seven months ago, a stroke of luck that Ana thanked the stars for every day. She had been out of town with Jane and Darcy on a special project, one that had just a bit _too_ perfectly lined up with the alien attack. She had her suspicions, as did Jane and Darcy, of Thor's involvement, but it made her no less grateful to have been out of harm's way. She just wished the rest of New York had been as lucky.

Shaking herself out of her morose thoughts, Ana reflected on her afternoon instead. During the few hours they had been out, she had become fast friends with Natasha. The woman was quite friendly, at least when she wanted to be, and after the initial bumpy start, she was surprisingly easy to talk to.

Steve had remained quiet throughout most of the afternoon, but after her earlier realization, she was not mad at him in the slightest. In fact, she was beginning to count him as an acquaintance, a foundation she hoped they could build a friendship on. After all, it didn't seem like he had very many.

A brief contemplation solidified her resolve. She would do her best to become friends with Steve Rogers.

To be honest, she could use another friend, too.


	4. One Day At A Time

Monday morning came in the blink of an eye, yet Ana couldn't find it in herself to be disappointed at the weekend's abrupt end. She was one of the rare individuals of the world that absolutely adored her job. After all, what person doesn't want to spend the day looking at the stars and chit-chatting with her friends. Of course, there was a bunch of science stuff thrown into the mix too, which Ana loved just as much. She would have majored in astronomy, too, had her university offered it. But she loved art equally as much as the stars, sometimes even more.

Her true passion laid in the stories behind these things, the mythology intertwined with the constellations and the legends associated with the paintings. She had always been a dreamer, something she had in common with her sister, to a point. She was practical when it mattered, where Sarah was a bit less worried when it came to the less fun realities of adulthood.

Hearing her phone ring, Ana smiled at the name on her caller ID. _Speak of the devil_.

Sliding the green button, Ana happily greeted her caller, "How's my favorite baby sister?"

"She's great. She's also your only sister, so..."

"Still my favorite."

"Yeah, by default," Sarah replied.

"Even if we had a thousand sisters, you'd still be my favorite."

"Sometimes it disturbs me how sickeningly nice you are," Sarah replied, her tone of voice revealing that she did not hate it in the least.

"Aww, aren't you just the sweetest. What's up?" Ana twirled around on her kitchen barstool, ending by crossing her right leg over her left and leaning back against the small granite island.

"Not much. Well, that's not true. There's very much up. Everything is up. All of the things are up!" Sarah sounded excited about such things, piquing her older sister's interest.

"Would you care to expand on one of those things?"

"Eh. Not really," Sarah snickered into the phone. "Okay, promise me you'll hear me out before you make any judgements."

"Oh God, what did you do? Do I have to get that bail money I set aside for you?" Ana joked into the phone.

"No, not yet. That plan is still in phase one."

"Ha! Okay, shoot."

"Okay...well, why did you move out?" Sarah sounded like this question was leading into another, but Ana had no idea where her sister was going with it. So instead of trying to guess, she just answered honestly.

"I moved because I was about to murder Mom and Dad," Ana grumbled into the phone. She was joking, of course. She loved her parents dearly. But the longer she lived with them, the easier the decision to move to New York became. Their quirks started to become a little too quirky and their constant attention became stifling.

"Yeah...see, that's kind of where I am now, too," Sarah huffed into the phone. "I love them. I love them so much. But sometimes they're just so _them_ that I can't take it. I'm turning into a 50 year old, I swear to God. We've started going to early bird dinners to avoid crowds. I got excited over a new vacuum the other day, Ana. A _vacuum,_ " Sarah lamented, her increasingly loud voice sounding ashamed, desperate, and partially sad.

"Don't laugh! You know what it's like! And they're _so nice_ that I can't get mad at them. I feel guilty for even having this conversation with you after everything they've done for us. But please, I beg you, I need to live with a young person. Preferably a female young person, brunette, eyes like the Mediterranean, shares my DNA," Sarah ended in a voice so sweet, it would give you a toothache.

"Sarah...," Ana started.

"Yes?" The word came out as a squeak.

"Do you want to move in with me?" Ana was smirking to the room, a feature that she was sure could be heard in her voice.

"I mean if you're asking me…"

"Sarah!"

"Please, Ana? _Please, please, pretty please!_ I'll be the best roommate ever, and we can go out on the town, we can go to diners at 3 AM! Oh my God, what's it like to be able to get takeout at 4 in the morning? I bet it's amazing. I'll be super neat, too! I promise I'm not as messy as I was when we were kids. I won't cramp your style either, I promise! If you wanna have a guy over, I'll chill at one of the aforementioned diners! Oh, Ana, we'd have so much fun!" Sarah sounded genuinely excited about the prospect, and while Ana had grown accustomed to her solitary ways, sometimes she thought she had become _too_ accustomed.

She was in a rut, going from work to home and back again with the odd walk around the park or trip to a movie theater in between, if she was feeling adventurous. The highlight of her week had always been her volunteer work on Sundays.

As for the men situation, she had never been as comfortable discussing her love life as much as Sarah had been. Mostly because she didn't have one. She would never admit this to anyone, but she had never even been on a date. She was shy throughout high school, and in college there had never seemed to be enough time for it. Studying had been her main focus at the time and she never went to parties, the atmosphere making her too uncomfortable. She moved to the city immediately after graduating, and her job was always the sole subject of her attention, no matter what it was. Quite honestly, she was perfectly okay with that. She had much more interesting pursuits to go after than those of the romantic kind and she was more than capable of handling her sexual needs herself. She had never been the type of girl to pine for a boyfriend or to plan her wedding at the age of nine. She was perfectly content on her own.

Until recently, that is.

It's not that she longed for a man, or even the dating scene. No, what she longed for was simple companionship, since most of her friends had been absent from her life lately, busy with their own forays into adulthood.

Maybe having Sarah around wouldn't be such a bad idea, after all. It might break her out of her routine, and even if it didn't, she was sure her sister's company would stave off some of the loneliness that had begun to creep in these past few months.

"Okay, you can live with me. But _you're_ the one telling our parents, I am not breaking their hearts with news of an empty nest."

Ana had to hold her phone away from her ear when she was answered with a high pitched squeal of excitement.

"You're the friggin' best! I love you so much! If I wasn't a broke recent college graduate, I would so buy you something nice. Like really nice. Like some fancy shit."

"Well I appreciate the thought of buying me some fancy shit, Sa. So when did you wanna move in? I need to start looking for a two bedroom place as soon as possible. And I don't want to be the practical, bitchy sister, but what about rent?"

"I haven't really thought that far ahead yet, I didn't wanna get too excited. I honestly thought it was going to take a lot more convincing. I'll text you and we can iron out the details. It can't be that hard to get a job in the city, right?"

"I'm sure you'll be able to find something," Ana assured. Although, in all honesty, it was hard to find something in the city. But now was not the time to dull her sister's enthusiasm.

After wrapping up their conversation, Ana looked around her apartment from her space at the kitchen table. It wasn't large by any means, and technically it was only a one bedroom, but she supposed the "office" could be turned into a second one. It wouldn't be as large as her own, maybe a little over half the size, if she were being completely truthful. But it would save her the trouble of having to search for a two bedroom within the building (and probably out of it, too). Plus, it would give more time for Sarah to find a job, as Ana could comfortably pay the rent for this unit on her own. She had been for the past three years, after all.

Relieved that she wouldn't have to go apartment hunting anytime soon, Ana began to get excited about her new roommate. It had been a long time since she had seen her sister, and she could use the unrelenting positive energy at this point in her life. She just hoped Sarah wouldn't be disappointed with how uneventful her life actually was.

Finishing up her breakfast, she grabbed her bag from its place on the living room coffee table and jetted off to the Tower.

The first few days of the week passed without much ado, Ana's routine bringing her from one day to the next.

On Wednesday afternoon, however, tension was brewing in the air between Tony and Jane. On the surface, they were arguing over the details of Jane's upcoming presentation to the board regarding her research on the Einstein-Rosen Bridge. That would be business as usual around here.

But the tiny, sharp jabs each party was making towards the other and the tone in which the entire conversation was held revealed a deeper, more personal issue at its core. A wise man would bet that issue revolved around Thor.

Darcy had plugged her headphones in, her amusement in the argument turning into exhaustive boredom around the first hour mark. While their volume had been civil at first (the only civil thing about this argument), it had now reached a new level, like how the hiss of a firework becomes louder as the fire nears its target.

And Ana didn't want to be here when it went off.

She shot a text to Darcy asking her if she wanted to take a stroll around the building with her to escape the inevitable explosion. Darcy replied in the negative, saying that that's exactly what she had been waiting around for.

Rolling her eyes in amusement (because, really, that was _classic_ Darcy), Ana quietly stood from her desk and slid out the door, texting Darcy to let her know when it was okay to come back.

The heels of her tall grey boots echoed on the floors of the hallway as she hastily made her way to the break room. After all, the quicker she could get away from World War 3, the better. The sunny glow of the mid-September day took her by surprise, as it was in such perfect contrast to the storm brewing inside the four walls she had just departed from.

Stepping into the break room (she really needed to come up with a better name for it, as the term "break room" made her feel like she was still working at Target, and those memories were best left to her high school self), she was surprised to find one of her weekend lunch companions occupying the chair at the furthest end of the dining table.

"Hey, Steve," she greeted brightly, genuinely pleased to see him. He looked up from his food ( _was that a...oh, god, you poor, poor man. You save the world and they make you eat Lean Cuisines?_ ), giving her a polite smile as he chewed through what she could only guess had been a sad attempt at meatloaf. "Tony cutting back on lunch expenses?" She asked, the mirth in her voice belying her rhetoric intention.

"Hmmm?" He looked confounded for a moment before she nodded towards his lunch. "Oh, this," he seemed almost embarrassed and she instantly felt bad for the question. _Will I ever get the hang of talking to this guy?_ Steve continued, "The opposite, actually. There was so much food in that meeting, it could have fed Brooklyn during the Depression. Although I think people would have still declined it," he gave her a small, almost wry smile. "Sushi is something I can definitely cross off my list."

"Still, the cafeteria must have something better than bland cardboard."

Steve tilted his head, conceding her point. "Probably. But it's always so full of people, it can be a bit overwhelming sometimes. I found this," he gestured towards his empty container, "in the freezer. I hope it wasn't yours," his eyes got wide for a moment before Ana quickly reassured him that it was, indeed, not hers.

"You can't possibly be full from that. I don't even get full from those and I'm not a super soldier, if you can believe that," she said with a slight smirk. She opened the stainless steel refrigerator and took out the ingredients for her lunch. "I'm making myself a buffalo chicken wrap, would you like one? There's plenty of stuff here."

Steve looked like he was about to refuse out of either politeness or habit, but then gave it a second thought before accepting her offer. "That would be great, Ana. Thank you." The way he said her name sent a strange sensation down her spine, and she didn't think her heart had been beating this fast a minute ago.

"No problem, kiddo." _Kiddo, Ana, really?_ She ducked her head, busying herself with arranging the ingredients on the counter and pretending she didn't see Steve's raised eyebrow and pointed smirk. _Own it, Ana. Own your idiocy._ Deciding to not let herself be embarrassed around this man anymore, Ana raised her head and looked him directly in the eye. "That's right. Kiddo." She gave him a determined look and went back to assembling their wraps.

"It's better than Capsicle, I'll give you that," Steve said in a joking tone, but there was a somber note to it that made Ana think the nickname really did bother him.

"Ugggh. Please, just ignore Tony. He's an ass to everyone. Case in point, he and Jane are at each other's throats right now. Their bickering got so bad it ran me out of the office in search of sanctuary. I swear my ears are still ringing." She wrapped up the sandwiches (she made Steve two, just in case) and put them on plates before bringing them to the table. Steve thanked her again when she placed his plate in front of him. Grabbing two waters from the fridge, Ana sat down in the chair next to Steve, the rectangular table allowing a ninety degree angle between them. They ate in silence for a few minutes while Ana tried to think of something to say. One would think it'd be easy, talking to a superhero. Only she didn't want to get to know Captain America, she wanted to get to know Steve Rogers.

"So, Steve, what's your favorite pastime? You know, besides the saving the world business," Ana twirled her finger around in a circle, indicating said world. Her white lacquered nails complimented her blush cable knit sweater as the edges of both things met on her hand. Maybe buffalo chicken was a bad idea today, she didn't want to get sauce on her favorite sweater.

She had a tendency to spill.

Steve looked surprised by the query, almost as if no one had asked him the question in the six months since he came out of the ice. "Well, I used to enjoy drawing, although I haven't done much of that lately. Mostly I've just been working out a lot, you know…" He trailed off and shrugged, as if apologizing for not having a more interesting answer. Contrary to his own belief, Ana found the first part of his response fascinating. She never would have guessed him to be an artist.

"Wow, that's great. What kind of stuff did you like to draw?" Her genuine interest must have showed, because Steve seemed more willing to expand on it than he had a moment ago.

"It mostly depended on my mood. Sometimes it would be a landscape, sometimes it would be people. Sometimes it would be nonsense," he raised his eyebrows and smiled, a genuine smile she hadn't seen on him before. He started in on his second wrap, swallowing before saying "This is delicious, by the way."

"Glad you like it." There was a brief pause before she continued. "Well, if you ever take up drawing again, I'd love to see some of it," she assured with a smile. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she was hesitant to read what it said. "Sorry, one sec," she apologized to Steve as she took her phone out.

 _CODE RED. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. - D_

 _Oh, shit,_ Ana thought. Darcy and her had come up with "Code Red" to warn each other to stay out of the office when Jane was in a bad mood. It had only been used once in the time she had worked for Jane. Apparently that time of the month + Thor leaving +Tony bitching = one insane Jane.

If Darcy was issuing another Code Red, things were getting bad in that office. Her face must have showed the direness of the situation, as Steve asked, "Is everything alright?" in such a concerned tone that she genuinely felt bad for worrying him.

"Oh, yes, everything's fine. With me, anyway. Darcy was just warning me to stay away from the office for a bit while she tried to cool things down in there," she placed her phone on the table with a thud. "So, if you have any of those questions I told you about, it looks like we've got a few minutes," she said teasingly.

Steve looked at her phone on the table and she could see the question forming in his mind. "I do have a question, actually," he began. "What, exactly, is the 'cloud'?"

Ana nodded her head in sympathy. "Steve, I'm gonna let you in on a secret." She looked at him intently. "I have no idea what the cloud is." Steve laughed at the mock seriousness of her expression, and Ana promised herself she would do everything she could to hear it again. "I'm serious!" She leaned over in her chair, placing her forearms on the table in front of her, gesturing with her hands. "I have no idea what it is. Is it one big cloud? Is it multiple clouds? Does everyone have their own cloud? Do we all share the cloud? Is it, like, an actual, physical cloud? It could be, for all I know!" She shrugged her shoulders with her arms half raised in the air.

"I probably should have clarified that I'll answer any questions _except_ technology-related ones. Those are best left for Stark, as much as I loathe to admit it. Actually, on second thought, go to Bruce. He'll teach you just as much without making you feel like an incompetent toddler." She huffed out a laugh, noticing that the usual awkward air between them had dissipated.

"Thanks for the advice," Steve said in amusement.

"Anytime," she said, the last quiet chuckle leaving her with the word. "Honestly, Steve, I know I wasn't around back then, but I can't imagine the world's all that different from how it was." Ana looked Steve in the eye, her tone turning reflective. "People are just living their lives, one day at a time, trying to get through each one as best they can. Civil rights happened. Women's rights happened. Gay rights happened. All important milestones in this country's history. But when you get down to it, people still just want love and acceptance. Maybe a little joy, wherever they can find it," she finished with a soft smile.

Steve looked pensive, overturning her words in his mind. He caught her eye again, "If all that's true, you're right. It hasn't changed much at all."

They spent the next half hour idly chit chatting. The conversation flowed smoothly, only halting when Steve was called by Natasha for what Ana surmised to be some superhero business. Steve gathered their empty plates and placed them in the dishwasher, even though Ana protested that he was much too important to be doing such things. "You have places to be, kittens to save from trees. I'm sure I can handle cleaning up a few plates."

Steve just ignored her, collecting their dishes and smirking as he said, "Do you think that's what I do? Save kittens from trees?"

"I'm sure there's a boy in a well every now and again," she replied wryly. He huffed out a laugh as he closed the dishwasher. He began walking to the door before pausing, seeming hesitant to leave. He turned around to face Ana, and she noticed his gaze had turned back to the intense emotion she couldn't name the first time they met. All of a sudden she wanted to shrink away, make herself smaller so she could avoid the intensity of his attention.

"Thank you, Ana. This was...nice." As he left, Steve seemed both forlorn and nostalgic, as though part of him regretted their interaction because it reminded him of something he had lost.

Maybe it had. After all, how many people in his life had he lost? Dozens? Hundreds? Maybe a friendly conversation for her was an ugly reminder for him, bringing to his mind all of the faces he would never see and voices he'd never hear again. Maybe he didn't want a friend because he had lost too many, and couldn't bear to lose any more.

Maybe this silly endeavor of friendship was selfish of her. _Well, what were you supposed to do, just sit there in silence? It's not like you tracked him down. Oh God, what if he thinks that's exactly what you did? What if he thinks you're a stalker?_ Ana shook herself from her thoughts, rationalizing that no one would stick around, let alone speak to, someone they thought was crazy enough to stalk them. _He probably just remembered someone, maybe your company distracted him from his situation. Maybe it was a_ good _thing._

Through all of her messy thoughts, Ana was too distracted to notice the war veteran's attire. The familiarity of his brown leather jacket was something she would consider much later in the day, right before drifting off to sleep.


	5. Summertime

"I'm just saying, it's October and it's eighty degrees outside? Summer is supposed to be _over,"_ Ana complained into her phone, angrily tearing her jeans down her legs and throwing them into the corner of her room in a huff.

At the sound of deep, feminine laughter through the speaker, Ana continued, "Aren't you Russian? Shouldn't your blood be boiling at this volcanic temperature?" She pressed the "speaker" button on her phone, placing the device on her bed before rifling through her tiny closet.

"I love the heat, I don't know why. Maybe because it was such a long time before I was able to experience it for myself," Natasha replied nonchalantly.

Ana frowned.

In the several weeks after her lunch "date" with the avenging pair, she and Natasha had built the beginning of a steady friendship. During that time, Ana realized she often dissociated Natasha from her famed persona of the Black Widow, mostly because she just seemed so... _normal_. Ana had always thought Natasha would be all-business, all the time. As it turned out, she was wrong. Natasha did not give off the vibe of a tortured, deadly, weaponized assassin at all.

Actually, she was kind of a nerd. A _gorgeous_ nerd, but a nerd nonetheless.

Because of this, she had more than once found herself feeling sorry for the woman when Nat would let little details from her past slip. Nothing too heavy, of course, at least not to the teller- Natasha was not one to deal out the cards of her past on a table for all to see- but little things that were taken for granted by the rest of society. Apparently the access to warm weather was one such thing.

Knowing Natasha had probably associated her silence with Ana's corresponding thoughts (she had been caught with a look of sympathy once and the redhead did not hold back how she felt about it. Spoiler alert: Natasha Romanoff hates pity and will promptly tell you where you can put it.), she tried her best to pretend her pause was due to her current clothing situation.

"Look, I've got nothing to wear. My jeans were chafing and are already damp from me sweating through them. I haven't done laundry yet- _I can hear your eyes rolling, stop it! -_ and all I have is this short white dress that my sister got me. And I am _not_ wearing that because it makes me look like a ho. And I am _not_ going out looking like the slutty Halloween version of the Virgin Mary."

"Oh, come on. Everyone loves her!"

" _Natashaaaaa,"_ Ana whined. If she were a less mature person- or a toddler- she probably would have stomped her foot. "Can't we just stay in today? Put on the air conditioning and watch the last season of _The Bachelor_?"

"Look, I just got back from a full week of sitting on my ass in a small hotel room waiting for a mission that never came. We're going out one way or another. So the way I see it, you've got three options. One, you can wear clothes that haven't been washed yet. Which I know you won't do because you have decent personal hygiene. Two, you can wear the dress. That would be be my personal choice. Then, of course, there's always option three."

"Which is?"

"You can go naked."

"Okay, you know what-" Ana had to raise her voice to be heard over Natasha's laughing- "No, that's not even...no. I've had enough of your funny, _funny_ commentary. I'll be lunching by myself today, thank you."

"You should've done your laundry," Natasha said matter of factly.

"Thanks, _Mom_. That's so helpful." Ana huffed into her closet, placing her hands on her hips. "Uggggh, _fine._ You win. I'll be out in ten, tops."

"Could you make it five? I've been out here for ten minutes already and people are starting to stare because it's, you know... _me._ "

"Or maybe they're staring because you drive a ridiculously ostentatious vehicle."

"Possibly. See you in four." At the click of Natasha hanging up, Ana glared at the lone dress in her closet. All of her summer clothes sat piled in her laundry basket, mocking her. This heat wave had been both unexpected _and_ unwelcome. She had always preferred the cozy fall and winter months, full of sweaters and blankets and boots. Closing her eyes and engaging her hands in a prayer stance, she promised Mother Nature she would step up her environmental preservation efforts if _she would just give her something to wear._

Peeking her right eye open, Ana groaned when a new option did not magically appear in her closet. _Way to have a girl's back. Bitch._

Ana finally acquiesced that the punishment for her laziness was just to wear the damn thing. Defeated, she begrudgingly changed into the white lace and put on a pair of pink flip flops, tossing her chocolate locks into a bun before making her way to the door. She grabbed her purse and her keys, idly wondering if it was possible to kill Natasha. _Nah, probably not._

Ana was making her way down the sidewalk to where Natasha was parked when she heard the redhead's loud wolf whistle.

"Okay. Yep. I'm going back inside!" Ana yelled out as she spun on her heel. But Natasha just beeped her horn and shouted a mild threat that would befall Ana if she didn't get in the car.

"You're a pain in my ass, Romanoff." She muttered to herself, turning back to get into the car. Yanking the door open, she climbed in, holding down the bottom of her dress so she wouldn't flash her fellow citizens of New York.

Windy summer days were the _worst_. Especially when they were supposed to be windy _autumn_ days.

Gingerly stepping into the vehicle, Ana slammed shut the door, earning a glare from Natasha.

"What? It's a heavy door," Ana reasoned with an exaggeratedly innocent look. "Not all of us are super strong Russian spies."

"Mmhm." Shifting into gear, Natasha drove them to the small café where they had their first interaction three weeks ago. It was the only place with a minimal chance of drawing a crowd around the only female Avenger on an early Saturday afternoon. Idle chit chat layered over the quiet hum of the engine as they made their way to lunch.

Luckily, the place was empty aside from the few staff members, so Ana didn't have to feel _too_ self conscious about her attire. The owner greeted them warmly, showing them to the same booth they had occupied during their last visit. Ana figured it was under an unofficially permanent reservation by Natasha.

"You know, I don't know what you were so worried about. It's not as bad as you made it out to be. You look like an Instagram model."

"I don't _want_ to look like an Instagram model," Ana mumbled petulantly as she perused her open menu.

"Well, I think you look nice. You're twenty-five, sweetie, work it while you got it."

"Yeah. From the looks of you, things really go downhill fast." Natasha just smirked at Ana in response, knowing damn well she didn't look a day over twenty-two, despite being in her early thirties.

"You know, you're the only person I've ever met that's actually chipper and sarcastic at the same time." Natasha's right eyebrow raised as she took a delicate sip from her water glass, seemingly impressed with her lunch partner's ability to pull off snark with a smile. "You'll have to teach me how to do that. What are you getting?"

"I think I'm gonna go with the chicken, bacon and ranch panini. It was so good the last time I had it. I've had dreams about it. Good dreams. Wholesome dreams. Dreams where I'm frolicking on a mountain top with it in my hand, as the seven Austrian children I nanny sing perfect harmonies dedicated to the love betwixt my sandwich and I…" Ana trailed off, looking far off into the distance as if remembering a long lost love.

"You're an idiot," Natasha jested through a laugh.

"You're a nerd."

"And where did you learn the word 'betwixt'?"

Ana shrugged. "Just around."

"Just around?"

"I'm sorry, I don't catalogue my vocabulary sources."

"You didn't learn it, from, let's say, a certain old-timey military captain, did you?" Natasha's face was the picture of smugness, thinking she had finally caught proof of the crush she was sure Ana had on Steve.

" _There_ it is. Let's see, that took you all of…," Ana glances at her dainty gold watch, "seventy-two seconds. Wow, that must be a record." Every time they were together, Natasha found _some_ way to mention Steve. If Ana didn't know any better, she would wager that Natasha was the one crushing on the Captain.

Ana rolled her eyes and took a sip of her Coke. "No. I did not learn it from him. Your subtlety is nonexistent, by the way. Yes, he's attractive. Obviously. Yes, he's perfectly well mannered and nice. But, come on, Nat. How could I possibly have a crush on him? I've had a total of three conversations with him, one of which totaled all of two sentences. _Short_ sentences at that. I tried to be his friend, I did. We had a really nice conversation a few days after we went to lunch with you. Or after I went to lunch with the two of you, more accurately. Anyway, that's beside the point." Ana stopped for a moment to gather her thoughts, brushing away a loose strand of hair that was too short to properly stay in her bun and therefore choosing to fall in her face instead.

"Look, it was nice talking to him. And I thought he liked talking to me, too- as _friends_ , Miss Smirks-a -lot - but that was the last time I saw him. It's been a month. Over a month, actually. I haven't even caught a glimpse of him since then. That's why I asked if he was on a mission. Not that he's obligated to talk to me because he's not, obviously. I don't know, I just feel bad if he's sitting in his apartment alone all the time. I hate the thought of someone being lonely. That's why I volunteer. And just because I love old people- oh look, the smirk is back, ladies and gentlemen." Ana announced to the empty room. Natasha held no small level of mirth in her eyes, but beyond that Ana could see genuine concern.

"Okay, bypassing the whole 'I love old people' thing that I could _so_ argue my case with right now, I'm sure it has nothing to do with you. Steve has been like that since he was, for lack of a better term, _defrosted_. He's perfectly cordial and sweet to everyone, but if you get too close, he has a tendency to run away. Kind of like a frightened deer."

"He hasn't done that with you," Ana pointed out.

"He tried. I'm persistent. And probably a little annoying, but hey, who isn't? Plus, we're together on missions almost 24/7, it's kind of impossible to avoid someone when you're constantly by their side." Natasha shrugged one shoulder in casual reassurance.

Distracted by their conversation, they realized they hadn't even ordered yet when their profusely apologetic server returned to take their order, detailing a minor mishap in the kitchen that required all hands on deck to clean up the mess. Assuring him that they were not bothered in the slightest, the two ladies placed their order before resuming their conversation.

"Since you're so keen on discussing love lives, what about you? Are there any romantic entanglements on the horizon for you, Miss Romanoff?"

"Nope. Not a one."

Ana tried to find any speck of a tell on Natasha's person. A twitch of an eyelid, the tapping of a finger, anything that would give away the fact that she was lying.

 _Oh, who am I kidding?_ Natasha was a trained spy- a trained _Russian_ spy- and Ana was... _not._

"Ughh, fine. You win this round, Romanoff."

Lunch passed with easy conversation and great food, the two friends getting on like they were long lost family. Ana was glad to find someone like herself, a person that was ready to be close friends after just one conversation. Ana had always become attached to people quickly. She'd ask her cashier at Target to have a slumber party if it wouldn't sound insane. Most people hadn't returned her eagerness for friendship in her life, or her loyalty. She was more than surprised to find the same attributes in the woman she used to avoid at all costs.

Sometimes she wasn't as good at reading people as she had originally thought.

Natasha was the complete opposite of everything Ana had pegged her to be. From afar, she seemed cold, judgmental and cocky, as though she would tear you down with one scathing look. But Natasha was one of the warmest people Ana had ever met, welcoming her into her life- to an extent, of course- with open arms. She almost seemed like the older sister Ana had always wanted. She loved Sarah dearly, and their bond was sacred. But sometimes Ana wondered what it would feel like to have an older sister to guide her as she did Sarah, to help her with the things she couldn't go to their parents about. It seemed Natasha was quickly filling that void.

Of course, she could be a mischievous jerk at times, too. Judging by the current look of unbridled glee on Natasha's face, Ana figured now was about to be one of those times. Especially since the look was directed at the door to the café.

She looked like she was a damn kid on Christmas morning.

"Hey, there's the man with a plan," she practically sang, and it immediately felt as though Ana's blood was simultaneously draining from her face and rushing towards it. She hoped the contradictions would balance each other out, having no effect on the coloring of her cheeks at all.

For the second time that day, Ana pondered the likelihood of being able to kill the Black Widow.

She glared at Natasha, mustering all of the intimidation and scariness she could in her facial expression before mouthing "I hate you."

Judging from the answering grin, she was not very intimidating at all.

"Hey Natasha, what's the emergen- oh, hello, Ana." Steve sounded surprised to see Ana, his raised eyebrows matching his tone, and she instantly knew that he had been roped into this unwittingly.

She gathered all the courage she could to look him in the eye, subconsciously crossing her arms over her chest.

"Hey, Steve. How ya doin'?" She was proud of herself for keeping her voice steady. She didn't want to wear this dumb dress in the first place. Now, not only did she bump into someone she knew, but she bumped into someone she knew with the morals of a 1940s Catholic.

 _I mean, he_ was _in a war. It's not like he's never seen a pin-up girl before._

 _Yeah, but they weren't mowing down a chicken sandwich in a café at 12:47 on a Saturday._

"I'm alright, thank you. Natasha, a word?" Steve gestured with his head, nodding to a corner where they could speak privately. Natasha must have anticipated this, for she just simply grinned wider, supplying her reason for being unable to talk at the moment.

"Love to, Cap, but unfortunately, I gotta run. Fury needs me for a mission ASAP. That's why I called you. I need to go directly to the Tower, so could you give Ana, here, a ride home?" The words were dripping with an overt sweetness, Natasha's obvious fabrication known to all involved.

"Is that so? I just saw him about thirty minutes ago and he didn't mention anything about a mission today," Steve said pointedly.

"Sorry, bud. This one's top secret. Only suitable for us more experienced spies." Natasha scooted out of her side of the booth, putting money on the table to cover the bill. Ana didn't even offer to pay her half, as she normally would.

After this, Natasha owed her so much more than a twenty dollar lunch.

After sauntering away- because, honestly, that was the only way to describe Natasha's walk- Ana and Steve were left somewhat dumbfounded, neither knowing the proper course of action.

"I'm sorry you came all the way here. You don't have to drive me home, I can just call an Uber or something. Really, it's fine." She offered him an out, and the majority of her wished he would take it. There was a smaller part of her, however, that _really_ wished he wouldn't. She pushed that part to the side, making a note to examine it a little bit later.

"No need to apologize. I think we both know that Natasha is pretty much gonna do what she wants. For some reason, this is what she wants." He sighed and sat down across from Ana, and she noticed he looked more tired than the last time she'd seen him. "What's an Uber, by the way?" He looked up from the table, catching her eyes as he did. For a second she was stunned by their particular shade of blue, the sparkle in them almost cartoonish in its perfection. The pure beauty of him caught her off guard for a moment, in the same way it did the first time she had stumbled into him. She idly wondered if this would happen every time she saw him after not doing so for awhile.

It probably would.

"Ummm," she stalled for a moment, having to recall what his question was. She shook her head before answering, "It's like a Taxi that you can order from your phone. Comes in pretty handy sometimes."

"I see. That sounds a lot easier than hailing one."

Ana nodded, and they went back to an awkward silence. She debated whether or not to bring up the fact that they hadn't spoken in quite some time, but she decided against it. She hated conflict, and this man was under no obligation to speak to her. Sure, it had irrationally hurt her feelings a bit. But that was her problem, not his.

"So, I'm going to guess that you've brought your motorcycle, and my attire isn't exactly bike friendly. So I think I'm just going to go. Again, I'm so sorry she interrupted your day like this." Ana moved to stand up, planning to walk as quickly as possible without running to the exit. Before she could, she felt Steve's warm hand on her own, not pressing down or preventing her from moving, but just lightly covering, asking her to stay a moment.

"Actually, Natasha told me to take one of the cars from the Tower. They're kind of on retainer for us when we need them."

"Oh, God. Yeah, they're probably on retainer for, like, when there's a bank robbery or a zombie apocalypse or something. Not for picking up a woman that can easily walk to her apartment but just doesn't feel like it." She put her right hand over her eyes, shaking her head in embarrassment and disbelief that Natasha would recruit _avenging resources_ for her own amusement.

Steve breathed a laugh, "Is that what you still think we do? Stop robbers and zombies and rescue kittens?"

"Yep. I think you probably do it all the time." Ana dropped her hand to the faux marble of the table. "Except for the kitten thing. I think they reserve those calls just for you." She took a final sip of her now watered-down Coke, slurping the last drop of the sugary substance through mildly chewed straw, a habit she had yet to break. "Did you want to order anything? I'm sure you must be hungry."

Steve quickly denied her offer, a small smile having appeared within the last few minutes. "Anyway, I can take you home whenever you're ready."

"You really don't hav-"

"I want to," Steve said, cutting off her final protest. "Really, I don't mind." He made eye contact with her, giving her a reassuring smile.

"Thank you, Steve. I'm ready whenever you are."

They made their way to the car, some fancy SUV that Ana didn't have to look at the logo to know was expensive.

The ride back to her apartment was quiet, although she did notice Steve's occasional sideways glances in her direction. She became slightly self conscious, crossing her legs and pulling the bottom of her dress over them as much as she possibly could without revealing any more cleavage. The task was not an easy one.

On the way back, she realized that Natasha had done this _for her_ , not to mildly amuse herself, although that was definitely an added bonus for the spy. In her field, she often had to create opportunities to get to the right people, and that's exactly what she had done for Ana. She had created the opportunity to spend time with Steve since it wasn't happening naturally.

In a split second decision, she realized it would be rude to not take advantage of the opportunity Natasha had worked to orchestrate.

"Steve, I was wondering. And, you can completely say no. In fact, I'm expecting you to say no. But, nevertheless, if you ever have some spare time, I know a small gallery on the other side of town that I think you'd really like. It's private, so it's kind of hard to get into. But I know the artist's assistant, so I could get you in if you wanted. Although, you could probably get into it anyway, since you're, you know, _Captain America_ …" _Reel it back in. Come on, you can do it._ "Anyway, if you ever wanted to check it out, just...let me know." She could feel the sweat gathering on her forehead and mentally kicked herself. She could see the blush on her cheeks in the side mirror and her entire face felt hot.

"Thank you, Ana. That's very nice of you." He pulled up in front of her apartment, and looked over to her. "I'd love to," he said quietly. Ana turned her head to look at him and she smiled, genuinely happy. "Great," she returned in the same tone. Steve gave her a smile and for some reason, it looked different than his previous ones. Belatedly, she realized it was because this one reached his eyes. "Well, thank you so much for taking me home. It's very kind of you."

"You're welcome, ma'am. It's all part of the job description. Kittens and damsels." He saluted her with two fingers and she laughed before making her way into the brick building.

She was wrong, she owed Natasha _much_ more than a sandwich.


	6. REM

He couldn't stop thinking about her.

Steve lay in his bed, sweat gathered on his furrowed brow, eyes following the many cracked paths in the off-white ceiling, and wondering just when his life got so complicated. He had been a sickly boy what seemed to be less than a decade ago in his mind. His biggest problem back then was finding a date that wouldn't ditch him during it. When he finally found her, it seemed his life had turned for the better. She was smart, kind, and beautiful. More importantly- to him, at least- she loved him when he was small. She wasn't like most of the female population that scoffed at him until he became enhanced, turning those scoffs into batting eyelashes and feminine giggles.

She didn't roll her eyes during his asthma attacks. She didn't avoid eye contact with people in embarrassment at having him by her side. She even encouraged him to accept Dr. Erskine's offer, despite her fear of losing him. She said that she knew she would be holding him back from his destiny, and she wouldn't be held responsible for denying the world their greatest hero.

Her disappearance had always haunted him. Was she okay? Did she leave on her own or was she taken? He'd thought the ice had frozen the wound shut, numbed the pain of her absence. But being bombarded with a new century and alien creatures had proven to be only a temporary distraction. He missed her, of course. He always would.

It wasn't until he bumped into Ana that he realized just how much.

The wound was ripped open, spilling memories and heartache like blood on a battlefield.

So he had gone to his apartment that night, too emotionally exhausted and mentally shaken to go to the gym. It probably would have been more productive than sitting at his kitchen table and staring into space, but this was one rare instance in which he didn't care.

Those hours had led him to the conclusion that he would avoid Ana, as any other option would keep the wound gushing.

Somehow, avoidance of the woman was impossible. It was all Natasha's fault, really. She thought very highly of her matchmaking prowess and had a way of making things that were definitely _not_ sensible seem as though they were. She was persuasive in the worst way, the way that made you think her thoughts were actually your own. The way that made you think you were driving when really she had rigged the GPS.

He had explained to her why this was a bad idea. Why he had wanted to stay away from Ana. How she was all right and all wrong at the same time.

He ran the same argument he had been having with himself for the past month over in his head for the thousandth time. He debated reaching out to her, it would be easy enough to get her number from Natasha. But then he reasoned that Ana did not give it to him herself, and therefore probably didn't want him to have that information. It would be rude and arrogant to think she would welcome a call from him, a virtual stranger.

Then again, she did ask him on a date. Was it a date? Or was it just an acquaintance offering an olive branch of friendship? Either way, he should have declined, but his acceptance spilled out in a whisper before he consciously gave permission to the words. This was one situation in which he longed for his lost friend. Bucky would know what to do.

He turned over onto his left side, the red numbers of his alarm clock seeming stark against the glow of the early morning light filling the room.

Judging by the time, his overtired eyes would match. He closed them, trying to get another twenty minutes of sleep before his alarm rang and he would have to face whatever new monster had been created during the night.

The tap of Ana's pencil against her desk echoed throughout the quiet space of her apartment. She stared at her list, chewing the inside of her bottom lip as she pondered its contents. The _pro_ side was short compared to the _con_ , yet her mother had always advised quality against quantity, so she still remained undecided.

What on Earth had possessed her to ask Steve Rogers on a date? That type of boldness was so out of character for her that she seriously considered the possibility of Natasha slipping some sort of encouragement pill into her drink at lunch. Or maybe the self help book she had been reading on and off for the past two months was finally starting to take hold. She still had her suspicions about the redhead, though.

Maybe she had just gone insane. It was only a matter of time for someone like her, a girl that spent the majority of her time alone watching Netflix and experimenting with different popcorn toppings.

Sure, her new friendship with Natasha had put a small dent in that loneliness. But when your new friend was a super spy for the world's most elite intelligence agency, her spare time was limited. Darcy was currently engrossed with boyfriend number three this year, and Jane was doing the same with Thor. Her sister was now unsure if she was moving in due to an opportunity to study abroad, and lately Ana felt like everyone was making these giant strides in their lives while she was left standing still by the wayside.

So, maybe that's why her offer to Steve spilled so eagerly from her mouth. In hindsight, _I can see you're_ _lonely too_ was what it really felt like she was saying.

He was gorgeous, no doubt. He was starting to warm up to her, at least, it seemed that way. He was also eons out of her league and she really had intended to only begin a friendship with him. That's what this could be, right? He didn't need to know her intentions had been romantic. For all he knew, it was just a friendly gesture.

Her handwriting stared back at her, the cursive loops seeming far too fanciful for the subject matter. Sighing to herself, she shut her notebook and threw it in her desk drawer before leaving the room altogether. She'd figure this out later. After all, she had a while to decide if cancelling was the best course of action.

Tuesday morning, Ana was greeted with three missed calls and a voicemail from Jane left at approximately 4:02AM. She and Darcy were headed to Alaska, of all places, to more closely monitor the recent bump in activity there. She still needed someone to monitor and reconfigure the data here and, well, Darcy had answered her phone. It looked like her alone time was going to be extended by eight hours for the next few days.

The heat wave had, thankfully, subsided and it was back to the mid fifties, allowing her the cozy privilege of wearing her favorite cranberry sweater. Pulling on her brown riding boots, she grabbed her keys off the kitchen counter and headed out the door.

Jane's lab was quiet, only the gentle hum of the roaming faux night sky on the wall keeping Ana company. The glow was enough to illuminate the printouts occupying her workspace, each small dot on the graphs representing the coordinates she was currently transcribing for Jane.

Hours and one giant unorganized mess of papers later, a knock on the door startled Ana out of her concentration. She looked up to find Natasha standing just outside the glass door, dressed in her uniform and looking the most serious she'd ever seen her.

She waved her in, curiosity and concern warring with each other.

"Hey, Ana."

"Natasha. To what do I owe this extraordinary inconvenience."

The Russian seemed in no mood for banter, her expression a bitter mix of concern and frustration. Her posture was rigid, already preparing for the impending fight.

"Listen. I need you to be careful these next few days. Or for however long we're gone. All of us are going out on this one. There won't be anyone at home base to protect the city...or you," she looked earnestly at Ana, a silent plea to head her warning. "I can't get into it now. But just...lay low, okay? Try to stay here, in the Tower, if you can. It's the safest place you can be. Be careful."

Ana realized the enormity of this unexpected visit. Out of everyone in this building, Natasha had felt it most necessary to warn _her_ , to keep her as in the loop as she could be. Ana was touched by her concern, if not a bit confused as to why she was suddenly so important. Nevertheless, she would take Natasha's word to heart and follow her instruction to the best of her ability.

On one condition.

"I will if you will," she responded with a small smile. Natasha had come to mean a lot to her in a short time, and she would worry about her as though it were her own sister in the midst of the chaos. Whatever chaos that may be.

"I'll be careful, too. Well, as careful as I can be," Natasha promised with a slight roll of her eyes. As she turned to leave, Ana realized something. She abruptly stood from her chair, calling Natasha's name to stop her. The redhead turned halfway back to Ana, tilting her head expectantly.

"This means...this means _he_ is going too, right?" Ana had been so focused on Natasha that the implication of Steve being in danger had been momentarily lost on her. Nat nodded her head solemnly.

"Tell him...tell him...fuck, I don't know what to tell him." Ana ran her hands through her hair before crossing them in front of herself, shaking her head as she thought of what to say to someone who was in that strange space of being nothing and everything. A potentially familiar stranger that she had no claim on, no _real_ reason to worry for except that every time she spent time with him, she felt this strange sense of connectivity, as though a puzzle was being completed.

"Just make him be careful, too, okay?" Natasha nodded her ascent before striding out the door. With the sense of purpose she had, Ana felt a little sorry for whomever would be on the receiving end of it.

The week passed in a blur of stargazing and mathematical problem solving. The sky was unusually active, prompting Jane to demand (well, plead with, more like) Ana to work overtime. Even without Natasha's warning, she probably would have stayed in the Tower anyway. The workload was too much for one person to handle during typical work hours, so a temporary home at the Tower worked perfectly. The break room-slash-lounge had become her makeshift apartment, the large plush chairs _almost_ as comfortable as her own bed.

In the week since the Avengers' departure, the Tower had become a ghost town. The floors gleamed even more than usual, the disturbance by urgent shoes and dead skin cells taking a reprieve. And yet the extra polish did nothing to undermine the eerie quality that had settled over the silent building. It only seemed right that a structure like this would be abuzz with people. Anything less transformed it from a tech lover's dream into a haunted mansion.

Even though being alone had her on edge and abnormally skittish, it was the reason for her solitude that worried her more.

Natasha and Steve had been gone for too long. The two week mark was one day away, and Ana couldn't find any news source that hinted at their reason for leaving. If it were just them, then _maybe_ she wouldn't have found it as odd. But when the Avengers are radio silent for two weeks and there isn't a _single_ news story about it...well, Ana knew something was seriously wrong. It was a good thing she wasn't a nail biter, because she's pretty sure her nails would have been gone within the first week.

The temptation to leave was strong, but every time she thought of going back to her apartment, or even just to the grocery store, Natasha's words would come back to her. She had gone a bit stir crazy, even making it as far as the lobby one day, before repeating those words and sending the elevator back to her floor.

She had taken to talking to JARVIS, as he was kind of like a person. Granted, she couldn't see him, but she imagined him to look like Giles on _Buffy_. He had aided her in her clothing dilemma, since Natasha told her to leave under no circumstances, even to get necessities from her apartment. The British tech procured her some STARK apparel, and while it certainly wasn't her first choice, it was better than wearing the same clothes for weeks. After that, Ana had started chatting to him regularly, even going so far as to plead with him for information on The Avengers.

He provided none, of course.

Fortunately, before she had completely succumbed to insanity, she had received a text from Jane on Friday saying she and Darcy were not only on their way back, but a few hours away from landing in New York. So when Ana was awoken by rustling in the refrigerator, she assumed Darcy and Jane had finally returned from their extended vacation in Alaska.

A yawn laced her words together, "Hey, it's about time you two g- oh, Steve." She sat up fully, more awake now that she was in the presence of another human being for the first time in twelve days.

She shuffled her blanket around to release her legs as she shifted them underneath herself, propping her up higher so she could better see over the large gray cushion.

Steve was by the fridge, holding the door halfway open in surprise at being caught. He was suited up, the mud caked and blood stained fabric implying he had just returned from their mission minutes ago. Even without the suit, she could have figured that out from his dog tired expression and scuffed up face.

"Ana...I wasn't expecting anyone to be in here. I apologize if I woke you."

She waved away his worry, giving him a reassuring smile in the process. "Don't worry about it. I need to check some data again soon anyway. What time is it?" She glanced at her watch, the little hands at a standstill. She tapped the face once, then twice. "Hm. Either it's incredibly dark for 6:48 or my watch is broken." She looked up at Steve, who gave her a tired smile before informing her it was in fact 3:30 in the morning. That means she had only been asleep for two hours. Strange, since she felt like she had slept for days. "So, what exotic destination are you getting back from? Cancún? Ibiza? Caribbean? I hear Saint Martin is great this time of year." Another yawn pierced her words, and she swore she could see Steve's eyes tire even more at just the suggestion of sleep.

"Nowhere that nice, I'm afraid." He seemed shaken, unnerved by either her presence or the mission. From the line formed atop his scowling brow and the tension in his shoulders, she drew the conclusion it was the latter that had him so...unsettled. She stood up, walking over to him with caution as if quick steps would scare him away.

"Hey, really though. Are you okay? Are you _all_ okay?" She placed her hand on his forearm, feeling the heat of his skin even through his sleeve. She wouldn't be surprised if he burned right through it. His eyes shot to the action, a clearing of his throat preceding his reply.

"I'm...yeah. Yes. Yes, I'm okay. We're okay. Thank you." His voice was the same one she'd heard him use in the minimal amount of press conferences he had been involved with. She hadn't spoken to him much, a few conversations here and there, probably totaling just over an hour. Despite the limited experience she had with it, she could already tell the difference between his Captain America voice and the voice of Steve Rogers. Steve's was more natural, softer and huskier, in a way. The Captain's was rigid, more enunciated, meant to reassure.

"Steve…", she said softly. His eyes looked lost, swirling waves of blue searching for shore. He looked moments away from crumbling, the cracks of his exterior becoming more apparent with each passing second. She didn't know what to do. She had never been good at comforting people the way her sister was. Something about his vulnerability caught her off guard, almost making her gasp. She didn't know why she did it- later, she would blame her sleep deprived state- but against her own objection she moved to press her lips against the corner of his. In that moment, it was the only way she could think of to supply some level of comfort. He tensed, and she knew she should move away, but instead she placed her mouth more fully over his, gently kissing his lips. They were soft and perfect, and after a moment they began to move against hers. They became hungry, starving even, and began devouring her own as Steve's strong arms engulfed her waist, pulling her closer to him. His lips traveled down her neck as her hands traveled up his, caressing the hair at the nape.

"Ana…", he moaned. She returned the gesture with his own name before he spoke hers again, but more forcefully this time.

"Ana!" A loud whisper and gentle shove shocked her from her dream. Her strange, yet not entirely unwelcome, dream. She blinked a few times, trying to gather her bearings. Darcy's face appeared above her own, a strained smile greeting her.

"Darcy? What time is it? When did you get back?" Her voice felt rusty from sleep, her vocal chords waking up behind the rest of her body.

"We landed less than an hour ago. Listen, we need to go. It's not safe here." The urgency in Darcy's voice was the most unsettling thing to Ana. Darcy was never rattled, never dropping her humorous nature even in the most dire of circumstances. For her to be so serious...Ana didn't want to think about it.

"What do you mean it's not safe? Natasha told me to stay here."

"That was before they knew the full extent of it."

"Extent of what?"

"We don't have time now. I'll explain everything in the car. Believe me, we'll have the time." Darcy started pulling the blankets from around Ana in a frantic effort to get her moving.

"Darcy. Darcy! Will you stop for two seconds? What the hell is going on?" Ana stood up from her place amongst the soft faux leather, almost tripping over the long legs of her sweatpants. She planted herself in front of Darcy, refusing to move until she was told _something_ about the current situation. Darcy let out a sigh, closing her eyes before quietly answering.

"It's the team. They're in trouble. No one knows where they are, exactly, but Tony reached out to us. He basically told us to get the hell out of Dodge. He gave us coordinates for a safe house. We need to leave. Now."


	7. Radioactive

Ivan Svoboda.

Putting a name to the face that had been filling the screens of every recent Avengers meeting was satisfying, in a way. Naming the current evil of the world made it more substantial, giving them something to hold on to.

In another way it was disappointing, as it always is when you find out there is just an ordinary human being causing so much pain in the world. It had taken an unusually long time to pin this one down, to find out any information about him at all, really. All they had were photographs of him and his machine, grainy and pixelated as if they were taken seventy years ago. The poor quality almost comforted Steve, the familiar black and white coloring bringing back memories of a photo he once kept by his side. If it weren't for the content of the photograph, the warm feeling of nostalgia would have enveloped him completely.

Instead it just made him frown.

He always did at those meetings, when the realization that his "saving of the world" didn't really matter in the end, because there seemed to be an infinite line of people just waiting for their chance to destroy it. He had crashed his plane for nothing. He had died for nothing. He had left _her_ for nothing.

And now he had to risk it all again, just to wait for the next evil to reveal itself.

" _Cap._ " Clint's voice shook Steve out of his downward spiral, something that had been happening more often as of late. He looked across the small space of the jet, making eye contact with a concerned Hawkeye. "You alright man? I've been trying to get your attention for five minutes."

"Sorry. Just focused on the mission, that's all." He hoped his false words were reassuring enough for Clint to accept them and look away. It must have done the job, for he nodded before Natasha called his attention away. Steve found he was both relieved and disappointed that Clint had believed him so easily.

He longed for Bucky in moments like these. His best friend would know just how low Steve could get, and know exactly what to say to take him out of his funk. She had the same ability, although her methods were different, and the thought of her made Steve frown for a different reason entirely.

Her existence in this time was impossible, of that much he was certain. He'd entertain thoughts of doppelgängers and clones before the idea that the same woman he'd fallen in love with ages ago was magically in his path again. He wondered what Ana was doing now, if she was safe and happy. She always seemed content and positive during the few interactions he'd had with her, but Steve knew how easy it was to falsely present that to the world. She had indirectly told him to be careful, and for some reason that made his heart ache. He had no right to worry about her, not really. Nor did she for him. He'd spent a handful of awkward moments with her and that was all. Even if she had the same face and same laugh and same smell, he knew she was not the woman he desperately wanted her to be.

Too bad his heart didn't believe him.

Things were not going to plan. Then again, when did they ever?

Svoboda had somehow learned of their impending arrival. He'd accelerated his own plan in a fit of panic, confident in his calculations and desperate to prove them correct. They had just arrived at his bunker located deep in the Pyrenees mountains when they spotted the mad scientist standing by a large, clunky looking metal box. It looked like something that belonged under the hood of one of the old army trucks Steve stole during the war.

Unfortunately for their team, Ivan spotted them at the same time.

And with the push of a button, chaos erupted.

The screaming was still echoing in Steve's subconscious. He saw Clint's terrified face as he tried to run from the explosion, Natasha's confusion as she was pulled into the swirling white light. Even the few Hydra operatives protecting Ivan had met their end. He had pictured time travel to be neat and tidy, like in the movies. Now he knew what a bloodbath it created.

The freezing cold and wetness of his suit were the first sensations to register with him. For a few terrifying moments, he was convinced he was back in that plane, in that ocean, in that block of ice. Fear gripped him in its dark clutches, nearly forcing him to become catatonic. Then he remembered what happened, a push and a blow and a bang, and he snapped his eyes open.

His eyes were bleary for a few moments and his head was spinning so hard that it morphed the clouds above him into wispy tornadoes. He reached out one of his hands, relieved to find snow in the place of ice or water. It took him longer than he'd care to admit to get his bearings, but he eventually recovered enough strength to stand up. He searched for any indicator of his current location, his eyes finally landing on the minuscule battlezone far in the distance. It was miles away and at least one thousand feet lower than his current altitude. On a normal day, Steve would be able to run those steep miles in minutes. But as he took in the damage to his body, the potentially broken rib and nasty cut on his leg, he knew it would take him much longer this time. Maybe he would be lucky enough to heal on his journey, if he ever made it to his destination. Determined and reluctantly hopeful, Steve began his treacherous path toward his team.

That is, if any of them were left.

Ana had always wanted to go to Naples, ever since she was a little girl and saw the city on an Italian travel show she had been watching with her father. The bright, multi colored buildings and cerulean waters mesmerized her seven year old eyes, promising her magic amongst other extraordinary things.

She had asked the universe for it every night for almost three years, wishing on stars and birthday candles and the occasional penny in a fountain.

She really should have been more specific.

The safe house in Naples, Maine was nice as far as houses went. In all honesty, it was much more than she had been expecting. Her vision of crumbling wallpaper, deteriorating wood and vermin was apparently a pessimistic view, and she could not be more grateful for it.

The Colonial was classic and well kept, the muted blue siding complementing the lush green lawn. The stained glass window in the door was another pleasant surprise, an element of character that was as unexpected as it was beautiful. Rainbows danced on the floor as tendrils of light from the sunrise reached through each colored pane of glass. As she walked through the house with Jane and Darcy, Ana picked up on many of these details, probably because they made the house feel like a home, giving her a feeling of comfort in an otherwise extremely _un_ comfortable situation.

The ride up had been filled with impossible explanations and furrowed brows. And Ana was still trying to process all of the information, limited as it may be.

A few nights prior, Jane and Darcy's portion of data had suddenly become chaos, constellations were intertwining in impossible ways. It was as though Picasso had hijacked Van Gough's Starry Night, ripping the canvas apart and splattering stars wherever he saw fit. The stars were screaming and the sky was bleeding out.

That's when Jane got a...well, not a _phone call_ per say, but a _message_ from Tony. The team had been tracking a very dangerous scientist (and probable HYDRA sympathizer) that had fancied himself a time traveler, and he did not want to do good things. Some of their recon had been off, however, so their showdown with him had been impromptu and unprepared. Luckily (depending on the perspective, of course) his calculations had been incorrect, too, and the portal he created only transported him to a different plane instead of a different time.

Unluckily, the majority of the team of superheroes were sucked in with him due to the powerful gravity of the portal. Tony had been far enough away to escape its pull, thankfully, but that's where their luck ended.

"What does this have to do with us?" Ana asked, still trying to process the events of the past few weeks.

"We're not sure. Tony just said to get to a safe place. Pronto." Darcy sounded serious, and serious Darcy scared Ana more than anything.

"Listen, it's been a rough night. Why don't we all get some shut eye and regroup in the morning," Jane suggested, practical as ever. Nodding in agreement, the trio made their way upstairs, sluggishly towing their bags behind them.

Sleep was elusive.

Eyes wide open and mind whirring with worry, Ana tracked the cracks in the ceiling with forced interest. Unfortunately for her, the imperfections were minimal. There were only a handful of distinct rips in the ceiling, four to be exact, and her eyes had wandered the same path over and over again, hoping the voyage would tire them, as it usually did. Her normal remedy was failing her, however, and she sat up in the twin size bed with a huff, and quite possibly with a whine as well (although she would deny any such allegation).

The house was too quiet, as much as Darcy's snores tried to alter that fact. She normally had the soft hum of her air conditioner to lull her mind to sleep, but no such luxury was available at the moment. An open window only provided the sound of an errant cricket every now and again, which was more annoying than peaceful. The alarm clock next to her read an absurdly early time that confused her overtired brain before she realized they had driven all night, so of course it made sense that it was seven in the morning. The dark clouds and light drizzle of rain outside further added to her already messed up inner clock, so with a huff and a scolding from her small practical side, she dragged her feet downstairs. The TV in the living room was impossibly inviting in such a strange situation, so she plopped herself on the small and somewhat uncomfortable sofa. The news channel that appeared as the television came to life was the last thing Ana needed, the overly bronzed news reporter taunting her with his lack of information. She needed more answers, and as was the case for the past two weeks, the news had none.

She couldn't stop worrying about Steve. Natasha was also on her mind, as the two women had become incredibly close in such a short span of time. Her concern for the man was more of a mystery, and made her question her own sanity if she thought about it long enough. A small batch of unfortunately awkward interactions and she was acting as though he was her boyfriend. That dream of hers also popped up in her mind now that the chaos of the past few hours had settled. What _was_ that? She had never dreamt about people that way before, and it made her uncomfortable in a variety of ways.

Maybe she was getting her period, or something equally as hormonally trivial was occurring in her body. It was the only explanation she could think of.

When she realized the disappointing news station was the only channel available, her frustration began to mount. She knew her lack of sleep was mostly to blame, but her whirring thoughts were going faster than she could keep up with, leaving her brain too energized for the drowsy embrace of slumber. She eyed the twelve DVDs on the bookshelf, getting up to choose one that might distract her long enough to calm down. Nine of them were action films, which she found to be both hilarious and a bit twisted. The only people that needed safe houses were usually those that lived in their own real life action movies. Did these really help them _relax?_ The only acceptable option that wouldn't induce even more anxiety was _Breakfast At Tiffany's_ , and within moments Ana was back on the couch watching the opening credits.

Audrey Hepburn was just beginning to sing _Moon River_ when there was a knock on the door, scaring Ana out of her partial slumber the movie had put her in. She was instantly on guard, unsure of what her next move should be. She didn't want to answer it, as it could be and most probably _was_ a very, very bad person. _But what kind of bad guy knocks?_ Maybe it was a neighbor, although the house was so secluded she doubted they had any. The knocking became louder, and more insistent, and she was calculating the angle at which she would need to walk up the stairs to remain undetected when a voice sounded through the door.

"Jane? Darcy? _Jaaaaaane,_ where the hell are you?" a familiar voice yelled before pounding on the door again. Ana was both relieved and confused, but as she heard Tony say "Do you think someone killed them?" her relief was much more prominent. She ran to the door and opened it, staring at the two men before her in disbelief.

Tony was scraped up, his face baring many cuts and a small white butterfly bandage across the bridge of his nose. But it wasn't Tony she was focused on at the moment.

Steve stood next to him, his hoodie and pants seeming a bit too small and short for his size. He looked relatively fine. And she would have believed he was okay if she didn't look in his eyes, where fury and sorrow warred with each other.

"Tony? Steve? What are you doing here?" Her voice was tired from her partial nap, and she actually considered she may be dreaming again.

"Uh, Anastasia? I'm glad to see you too, but can we save the family reunion mumbo jumbo for when we're inside? It defeats the purpose of a safehouse if you're not actually _in_ the house," Tony scolded.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Of course, come inside." Ana stepped aside to allow the two men to enter, closing the door behind them and quickly walking over to stop the movie that was still playing. She sat on the sofa, motioning for them to do the same.

"Do you mind getting Jane and Darcy down here? There's a lot to go over and I don't want to have to say it twice," Tony requested as he took a seat on the far end of the sofa. Steve continued to stand, as if he wasn't quite sure where he was or what he was supposed to do.

"Of course. I'm surprised they're not down here already, actually." But as Ana stood to make her way upstairs, Darcy and Jane were already making their way down.

"What the _fuck_ guys?" Darcy eloquently questioned. Her mussed up hair indicated that she had slept deeply and well, if not long, and Ana was instantly jealous of her ability to do so under such stressful conditions. Jane seemed more put together, as she always somehow did, and although she didn't echo Darcy's question out loud, she certainly did with her eyes.

Tony shared a look with Jane, one that Ana couldn't read but was certain she didn't like, and she knew that they were about to have a _very_ long discussion.


End file.
